Time Turner
by Six Underground
Summary: War never ends. What it does is allow people to switch sides. And that's exactly what these two lovers, one quite unwilling, have done. This is the dark story of a 19 year old tyrant, mainly HPSS, others will arise.


Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never will. Comments beforehand: This is a story I started a long time ago. It's one of my darker stories, expect some violence and maybe a lemon or two thrown in. THIS STORY CONSISTS MAINLY OF SLASH. There is some het, but not enough to fill the stomach. If you don't like slash, leave now. For those of you who do like slash, feedback is appreciated. I've never done a story of this.calibar. Another note: This chapter is currently not beta read. It will be soon though, I promise.  
  
Time Turner: Chapter one  
  
If there was one thing that Harry had realized a long time ago, it was that things never quite played out as you planned them to. In the end, planning is a fruitless thing. Plans are only made to be changed, so that in the end you can have a good laugh about how it didn't go perfectly afterwards.  
  
And laugh he did.  
  
Harry surveyed the hall. It really was beautiful. He had imported the pillars of black marble from somewhere in Asia; the sellers had jumped at the chance. Of course they did, they didn't want to face any consequences. The floor was a smooth white, and while he had wanted to it to be another color, in the end he had decided that anything else wouldn't have made the room flow so well. His seat was made of gold, of course. One cannot do what he does without having some gold. Forest green silks draped around him and hung from the ceiling. The room was empty except for him and another man.  
  
"Ron, bring him in. I would like to speak with him," Harry's eyes narrowed as Ron did not move, "I meant now."  
  
Ron looked at the floor and Harry could tell he was scowling fiercely. Yeah, well Harry supposed he had a right to be. That didn't change anything. What Harry wanted, Harry got. He smirked as Ron walked out of the hall, and seemed to slam the great doors, if they could be slammed. The doors were high and had designs etched into their smooth surfaces, snakes coiling all the way to the top and tiny figures seeming to bow down before him.  
  
Harry drummed his fingers on the side of his chair as he waited. What was taking that damned boy so long? He sighed impatiently and turned his gaze upwards. The ceiling reminded him heavily of the one at Hogwarts, however this did not change. It was not enchanted to project the sky outside. It was set to show the night. The stars glinted with far away light and the moon hung just off center. He didn't really care if was day or night when he looked. He liked the night. It comforted him.  
  
He looked at the doors expectantly has they opened, but scowled as he saw a servant boy scurry in. He opened his mouth to interrogate the youth, but closed it when he saw the tray with goblet in the shaking boy's hand. This must be the wine he ordered over an hour ago. Incompetent whelps.  
  
"What is this?" he barked out, making the boy jump.  
  
"M-master, here is the wine you requested," said the obviously nervous boy, a little hesitant in stepping forward.  
  
"Well, bring it here," he said.  
  
As he watched the young boy run forward while trying not to spill the wine, he wondered if he had chosen the right boys. They were seriously underexperienced and did not know exactly what was expected of them. He made a mental note to change that. It wasn't like he had a lot of choice anyway. Many had declined his, what he would call, polite offer and spit in his face, demanding death. And Harry always delivered what was asked of him.  
  
He accepted the cup and watched as the boy let the air rush out of his nostrils in relief. He sipped, letting the cool liquid slip down his throat and calm him. He savored the taste of smoke and dark cherries. A fine vintage indeed.  
  
"Very good boy. But make sure you are quicker next time. I do believe it does not take so long to pour one goblet of wine and move from the kitchens to here," he said smoothly.  
  
"Y-yes sir," said the boy, bowing low to show his respect.  
  
Harry reached out and grabbed the boy's chin, raising it up. The boy stared back and tried to keep the cold fear from reaching his eyes, but to no avail. Harry could see plain as day that he was terrified. Moving his hand lazily down to the boy's neck, he considered his options. No, not just yet, he concluded. He would not do it right away, though lord knows he wanted to. The child was much to young, only being about 15. He would do it later, oh yes he would. The boy was such a pretty thing, with his golden curls and bright blue eyes. Yes, he would see to it later that this boy went places. He removed his hand and pretended not to notice the relief in the blue orbs.  
  
"You may go now, I'm not in need of anything else. And remember boy, faster," Harry said with a wave of his hand.  
  
The boy stumbled down to the doors and practically ran out. Harry let a small chuckle out and shook his head. It gave him pleasure to see the people squirm. His power over others matched nothing else he knew. He closed his eyes and downed more of the wine. He unclenched his free hand, knowing that even though he could not see, there was blood on his palm. He muttered a quick spell and felt it heal. Damn, this was going to be harder than he thought.  
  
"Master?"  
  
He surpressed a jump and opened his eyes. Ron stood before him, his blue tunic barely brushing the floor. He was looking with only a hint of disapproving, making sure his face was as neutral as it needed to be. Harry let his face fall into a similar expression, and for a few moments the silence was only penetrated by the stares.  
  
"Yes, Ron?" Harry finally asked.  
  
"He's here," Ron said bluntly.  
  
"What was that you said?" Harry asked, cupping his palm around his ear and looking expectantly.  
  
"He's here, my Lord," Ron corrected through clenched teeth.  
  
"Beautiful. Wait outside until I'm done. When he leaves, bring in Hermione. I wish to speak with her on some matters," Harry said.  
  
"Yes, my Lord," Ron mumbled before moving to the doors.  
  
Harry smirked again as the one he sent for swept in, his black tunic touching the floor and trailing behind him. Ron coughed in disgust as he exited, which was ignored by the others. Harry watched with great amusement as the man before him seethed and stared at him in cold malice.  
  
"What do you want?" he demanded.  
  
"Now now, there's no need to use that tone with me," Harry said gently but firmly, "I just wanted to chat."  
  
"Bullshit," was the ugly reply.  
  
"Oh, you're such a feisty thing. I like that in a man," Harry commented, letting his smirk fold into a sly smile.  
  
"What do you want.my Lord," the last was added as an afterthought.  
  
Harry's smile widened. He had won. The man had just given his submission by saying that one title. Now it was time to reel him in.  
  
"Severus, it is so good to see you again," Harry started off in what would be called a friendly tone.  
  
"I can't say the same is said by me," Severus mumbled out barely above his breath.  
  
"Let us not haste in our greetings however," Harry said, "There is much to be done."  
  
"I bet there is," the other man snorted out.  
  
"I have asked you to come today because I wanted to ask you a question. Well, that doesn't sound quite right. I've come to give you a choice. That's more like it."  
  
"A choice?" Severus' disbelief was apparent.  
  
"Indeed. As you may or may not know, I've had my eye on you for quite some time. Only now has the time seemed appropriate to ask of you what I am about to present," Harry stated.  
  
"Just get on with it," Severus growled.  
  
"My, who's impatient? Anyway, here is your choice. You come to me. I make you mine. You will service me and in return I will give you protection and more than you could ever dream of," Harry said.  
  
"Service you?" Severus stood dumbfounded.  
  
"Oh come now, you must know what I'm talking about. Pleasures of the body cannot be too far of a concept to you, now can it?" Harry said, smirking at the horror that crossed Severus' face.  
  
"You.you want me to be your whore?" Severus spat out, staring up at the man on the throne as if he were insane.  
  
"Such a nasty word," Harry scolded, "A whore implies that you service many. And believe me, I will be the only one allowed to touch you."  
  
"And if I refuse?" Severus snapped, still horribly disgusted.  
  
"Why, then you die," Harry said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I have no use for someone who spends their days floundering around doing nothing."  
  
Harry knew that the last bit was only said just to get a rise out of the severe man, and it was working quite well. He also knew that it had been a true statement. He had been far too lenient with the Potions Master. He had allowed the man to roam around his castle for two whole weeks, using ingredients from his garden to make potions, drinking his expensive wine, eating in the lap of luxury. Why, the man should be honored!  
  
"Well? What is your decision?"  
  
"You give me such little time!" Severus declared.  
  
"I'm a busy man," Harry answered smoothly.  
  
Severus grimaced and looked around the room helplessly, trying to make a quick decision.  
  
"However," Harry continued, "I am also a courteous man. I will let you think it over tonight. Be back here at 10am tomorrow and tell me of your final decision. And I do mean final."  
  
"You are too gracious, My Lord," Severus whispered while bowing, remembering his training with Voldemort.  
  
"I know. You may go now, and tell Ron to send in Hermione," Harry said.  
  
Severus made his way quickly but quietly out of the hall. He shook his head furiously. The bastard! He would never want to become what that snake of a man wanted him to be. And yet.  
  
Severus shook his head. He would not think such thoughts. It was disgusting. He rubbed his temple, really needing a drink or something to calm his pounding head. He waved at Ron signaling that the "Mighty One" was done and wanted the next poor soul to go in. Ron sneered but nodded. He gave Hermione a worried look, but relaxed his tense muscles as she gave him a small smile in return. She walked casually inside and didn't even wince as the doors shut with a bang.  
  
"Ahh, Hermione," Harry said in a pleased tone.  
  
"Good evening My Lord, what can I do for you tonight?" Hermione bowed deeply when she approached the throne.  
  
"As I've told you before, you can call me Harry in private. You've earned it," Harry said.  
  
"Harry," it was a breath of relief.  
  
"Yes?" he asked in amusement.  
  
"I er.you called?" she asked, shaking her head and getting back to business.  
  
"I did. I want you to send Draco to Hogwarts," Harry said, his face set in a determined manner.  
  
"Draco?" Hermione asked confused.  
  
"He's one of the elite and bloody good at catching plots. Something's going on at Hogwarts and I want to know what. Give him this missive and see him off immediately," Harry reached into his robe and pulled out a roll of parchment.  
  
"As you wish," Hermione said.  
  
She accepted the document and stepped back. Her eyes ran over his form. He was very different from what he had been scantly a year before. By all means, he still looked the same. He was still fairly skinny with that shaggy black hair (she had begun to wonder whether or not Sirius had something to do with that). The only thing really different about his appearance was the ring of red surrounding both his pupils. His green eyes seemed to radiate, but the red seemed dull, almost dormant. She wondered where he had gotten them. She, of course, had a sneaking suspicion, but then again everyone who did ended up dead. No one really knew what had actually happened. No one had been around. She wasn't really that surprised when she had heard the news. She had been talking to Harry about it long before it had actually happened. On some levels she even related to it. Ron, on the other hand, had been completely shocked and hurt. At the time there had been no room for anger, but now it was there full force. She could not blame him for being angry though. Harry had been known for being notoriously good-natured. So how would she feel in his position if one day his best friend just up and changed?  
  
"Harry, how did you do it?" the words were out of her mouth before she realized she had said them.  
  
"Hermione, you know I can't answer that," his gentle tone relaxed her.  
  
"But.I'm dying to know. After analyzing and reanalyzing the data, I could not find one weak point in Voldemort's body. How did you finally get him?" her voice was pleading and yet still sharp.  
  
"Like I said, I cannot answer. I really don't mean to keep things from you, 'Mione. Really, you're all I've got. But, you're just not ready," this was the first time he had really been honest with her ever since it happened.  
  
"You're starting to sound like Dumbledore you know," she said jokingly, then instantly regretted her words.  
  
Harry's eyes went hard and he stared at her. Fearfully, she noticed that the red had begun to sort of pulse, something she had seen in no other person before. She bit her lip and took a step back, trying to shield her body if he decided to retaliate.  
  
"I'm sorry. That was wrong of me, please forgive me," she said, cautiously dropping to one knee.  
  
Harry sighed, the anger draining from his body. He knew it wasn't her fault, she had meant it as a joke. She had forgotten about the memories, that's all.  
  
"Come here, Hermi. It's okay," he patted his thigh and smiled.  
  
She grinned and kneeled by his throne, putting her head on his thigh. She sighed contentedly, just happy he wasn't angry with her. She nuzzled him slightly with her nose, and smiled when she heard him laugh. He had such a wonderful laugh.  
  
"Harry," she sighed out.  
  
"Hermione, I think it's time you left. I need to get Draco out to Hogwarts as soon as possible," he said, coaxing her body away from his.  
  
"Okay," she said neutrally, trying to hide her frown.  
  
"Good girl. Tell you what, I'll summon you tomorrow and we'll walk around the gardens, okay?" he suggested.  
  
"Okay!" she exclaimed, happiness leaking back into her.  
  
He smiled softly, and she knew that it was her cue to go. She smiled back and, still facing him, made her way out of the hall. She leaned against the closed doors and drew in a large breath. Letting it out as a giant sigh, rubbed her eyes furiously. No one else was around. She was glad, she needed a second to compose herself. She looked down at her hands, which were now shaking furiously. Not from fear, but from want.  
  
There was no way of denying that Harry had changed. And there was nothing she could do to gain his old self back. And in a way, she was fine with that. She could forgive him for all the evil he did. She could forgive him for all the pain he caused. She could forgive him for everything that he had ever did and ever will do.  
  
Because for the first time ever, Harry wanted her.  
  
Two years she would have killed for such closeness. Such touches that sent the shivers up her spine the way only he could. He was the only one she wanted. He was the only one he would ever need, ever want. She wondered absently if Ron knew. Probably not. He never did catch on to things. She still couldn't answer herself when she asked why she had ever married him. Maybe it was out of loneliness, maybe it was as close as she would ever get. And now Ron hated Harry more than anything. He had Harry because Harry was evil. He hated Harry because Harry was the new Voldemort. So in turn, Hermione hated Ron.  
  
She finally managed to stand up straight. She took on a neutral expression and walked down the hall, her red medieval swishing behind her. She took the pins out of her hair and let it flow down her back, framing her pale and regal face.  
  
That's just the way life went these days. 


End file.
